


The Guilty

by StardustAndAsh



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blind Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Marlboro - Freeform, Poison, The Heart of a King -quest, Unresolved Emotional Tension, but ship what u want i guess?, chapter 10, character injury, guilt complexes, ish, no ships, poisoning counts right?, poor prompto does not deserve the anxiety attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-23 23:08:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9686231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StardustAndAsh/pseuds/StardustAndAsh
Summary: Spoilers for chapter 10 (and Altissia)Tensions are high after Altissia. Noctis and Gladio are barely speaking to each other while Ignis tries to relearn how to navigate the world. Anger and guilt boil over as the four of them enter the Cartanica mine and Noctis takes the hit for one of the group.





	

**Author's Note:**

> the boys needed to hug it out after Altissia because the game doesn't really touch on that and i cry thinking that Gladio spent 10 years feeling guilty he hadn't reconciled with Noctis, and that Noctis spent 10 years thinking Gladio blamed him for Altissia.

The train rattled on through the dusty barren landscape with the loud clattering of its cars becoming a lulling hymn for its few passengers. Noctis would usually sleep through something like a train ride after having lots of experience sleeping in the backseat of the Regalia. There was nothing to do in a train for hours on end but sleep, but Noctis found himself staring determinedly out the window. Every time he closed his eyes his heart sped up as images of Luna, broken and bloody, flashed through his mind. Yet every time he looked at his companions the same feeling resurged. The three of them were a living breathing reminder of his failure.

Gladio’s rage was well deserved. Ignis’ injury was entirely Noctis’ fault. If he hadn’t let them split up, if he had insisted the three of them accompany the refugees out of Accordo, if he hadn’t failed the Trial of Leviathan then there wouldn’t be this rift through the group. The worst part through all of Gladio’s passive-aggressive or flat out mean comments was Ignis’ silence. Ignis had always been the first one to stick up for Noctis and his well-being, even if the sentiment wasn’t appreciated. Every time it drove home the point that Ignis probably only remained with him through a sense of duty.

Prompto was keeping Ignis occupied by describing the other passengers on the train with wild imagination, while Gladio remained silent and watchful, as if Noctis was about to leap out of his seat and attack them.

“…and the woman sitting three rows up to the left has hair big enough to house a baby chocobo. I bet she has one in there. Maybe she’s a chocobo rancher like Wiz, but she’s got these fancy heels on. I never understood heels myself,” Prompto rambled on without interruption.

Noctis wanted to interrupt and point out that not only had Prompto once admitted to loving shoes, he had definitely tried on a pair after the two of them swiped a bottle from the King’s liquor cabinet. Prompto would have retaliated by saying Noctis was the one who found a maid to give the prince a makeover. The two of them had wandered around the castle in the wee hours of the morning with fantastic make up and wearing the tallest heels they could cram their feet into. It still surprised Noctis that neither of them had ended up with a broken ankle. The memory brought a small smile to his face, but it was quickly wiped away by seeing the sadness in Prompto’s eyes and hearing the desperate false cheer in his voice.

Noctis clenched a fist, then let his hand relax with a sigh.

“I’m going to take a walk,” he said, standing.

Noctis extricated himself from the window seat and around Prompto into the isle. He hesitated, wanting to reach out to Ignis in some way, let him know that he was still there, but Gladio’s stony face made him stop.

“Too good for us now?” growled Gladio.

Noctis decided not to answer in favour of wandering down towards the caboose. The people in the train stared as he walked by. The black suit stood out from the paler, simpler clothing worn by most of the population. Parents hugged their children tight to their sides as he passed. His face had been plastered all over the newspapers and not all the stories were kind. Some said he had murdered Lady Lunafreya, others wrote that he had unleashed Leviathan’s wrath on the people of Altissia. In a way he had. It was his fault Luna was dead, and it was his fault the jewel city of Accordo lay in water and rubble.

Noctis accepted the looks and the glares. He let the guilt settle on his shoulders. He just needed some practise getting used to it, but Gladio’s unwavering rage was excellent training. Gladio had always been good with training.

The next car was a sleeper car, with rooms of bunkbeds on one side and thick floor to ceiling glass on the other. Noctis let himself lean against the glass and forced himself to look down at the dizzying sight of the ground flying away beneath his feet. For a moment he felt like he was flying, but then there was the squeal of breaks and the gentle slowing of the train. They had arrived at Cartanica.

Cartanica was built solely for the train traffic and the mine, or so Noctis assumed. There were a few clustered houses, a stand selling potions and souvenirs, and a decommissioned train car that had been converted into a restaurant. Noctis noted with mild amusement that they had named the restaurant “The Dining Car”.

Noctis looked around for his companions, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the bright orange glow of the setting sun. He spotted Prompto leaning on a railing and staring out over the mine pit. Noctis jogged over, but leaned against the railing a few more inches away from Prompto than he might have done a week ago. Prompto looked up at him with his bright blue eyes before staring back out at the sunset. Noctis followed his line of vision out to the distant flat horizon and the extraordinary red and purple sky.

“It’s a pretty sunset,” offered Noctis.

“Prettier than anything I thought we’d find in Niflheim,” murmurs Prompto.

“You know, I had no idea that Niflheim was so… empty. I thought it would be more like Lucius, but with more tech than trees. Its unsettling.”

Prompto gave a small laugh and rubbed at one of his wristbands.

“Their soldiers are called MTs right? I guess everything in this country is empty.”

“One of the tombs is here, so I guess it wasn’t always this way. Maybe one day it will be lively again,” said Noctis, desperate for any encouragement of hope.

“Yeah and one day Cindy won’t like cars and Ignis will see again,” said Prompto bitterly.

Noctis felt his heart break. He turned away, missing the regretful look that flashed across Prompto’s face.

“He and Gladio went to the dining car by the way. If we’re ready to head out I’ll go get them.”

And with that Prompto dashed away, leaving Noctis alone at the rail.

Noctis watched as the last sliver of the sun slipped over the edge of the horizon, leaving only its lingering light reflecting off the gathering clouds.

He turned at the sound of approaching feet to find Gladio stomping along a few feet in front of Ignis and Prompto. He was glad that Prompto was looking out for Ignis, hovering close by and ready to lend assistance should the older man require it.

“You want to go into the mine now?” said Gladio sharply. “A piss poor plan don’t you think?”

“The train will leave tomorrow in the late afternoon, we had best start looking now lest we run out of time,” answered Ignis, logical as ever.

“Exactly,” said Noctis.

“What about Ignis?”

“What about him?”

“You’re going to drag him into a dangerous situation like this just because you can. Can’t you think about anyone besides yourself?” Gladio’s tone was, impossibly, harsher than before.

Prompto was looking between Gladio and Noctis nervously.

“Ignis can speak for himself,” said Noctis quietly.

“Thank you Noct,” said Ignis. “I feel that although I may slow us down, I would rather not sit idly on my thumbs and wait for you all to return.”

Gladio grumbled but didn’t argue with Ignis. He stalked off to the elevator. Ignis made to follow, obviously following the sound of the heavy footsteps across the wooden deck, but Noctis gently grabbed his arm.

“Thanks Ignis,” said Noct quietly, aware Prompto was listening, “it wouldn’t feel right leaving my best man behind.”

“Noct, as I am now, I am hardly your best man, I fear I may be more of a burden than a help, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Ignis I-“

Whatever Noctis was about to say was cut off by Gladio.

“Are you coming, _Highness_ , or are we being subjected to another one of your whims?”

Noctis’s mouth shut so fast he heard his teeth click together. It was going to be a long night.

The mine wasn’t very large or very deep. For the most part it had been flooded out and abandoned. The rusting equipment lurked like daemons on the edge of their small lights. Noctis took extra care not to bump Ignis’ cane or leave him too far behind. Every time Noctis wandered more than ten feet away Gladio would passive-aggressively berate him.

Then, on the edge of the shadows, something movied.

Without even thinking about it Noctis warp-striked the offender, and instantly regretted it when he found himself in waist-deep water full of Gurangatch. There were at least 10 of the reptilian creatures slithering around in the foul smelling water, each armed with rows of three-inch long teeth and viciously curved claws. Noctis switched to his polearm, better to get some range between himself and the creatures.

Distantly he recognized the sound of the others joining the battle. Prompto’s gun echoed off the walls of the mine in ear-splitting bangs. Noctis turned to look and nearly got his arm taken off for the trouble. He had to focus on the enemy in front of him before he could check on the others. The Gurangatch lunged but Noctis smacked its face away and managed to land a hit to the sweet spot between jaw and neck. Noctis turned away from the creature’s death throes and spotted a sign of trouble; a Gurangatch was gliding through the water towards a stumbling, oblivious Ignis. Noctis warped to Ignis, praying he wouldn’t be too late.

Bang!

Noctis had misjudged his warp, crashing into Ignis and sending both of them tumbling into the murky water. Half a second later the Gurangatch’s jaws snapped shut where Ignis’ head had been.

All Noctis was aware of was the tangle of limbs and the rush of rancid water in his nose and mouth as he struggled to catch his breath. There was a tickle of something sharp against his ribs and then Ignis was yanked away from him. Noctis felt his heart miss a beat.

“Noct! Ignis!” Prompto’s voice rose over the splashing water as Noctis groped blindly for Ignis.

Noctis fought to get to his feet, summoning his sword and ready to fight a Gurangatch for Ignis when he saw that it wasn’t a monster that was holding up Ignis, it was Gladio. In Ignis’ hand was a single bloodied dagger.

A loud bang told Noctis that the Gurangatch had been taken care of.

“What were you thinking?” roared Gladio as he released his hold on Ignis’ arm and came striding up to Noctis, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him up so that Noctis was on his toes. “What the hell Noctis? You drag Ignis into a fight and then you try and take him out instead of the damn monster? You’re a king now, you better start acting like one.”

He shoved Noctis away, making him stumble and fall into the water once more. By the time Noctis got to his feet, the others were already a little way away. Prompto was gently leading Ignis down an uneven hill rife with roots. A twinge of pain reminded Noctis of the thin cut down his side, but the last thing he needed right now was Gladio yelling at him for wasting potions.

They travelled around in the darkness, eventually finding the path that they needed was blocked by a piece of machinery and they needed to find a generator. It was nearly 3 am and Noctis was swaying on his feet by the time they realized they would need to find a key to fire up the generator. Without saying a word the group collectively decided to make camp at the nearest Haven; a miserable fenced off ledge with little protection from the gathering stormclouds.

This was the first time they had made camp since Altissia. The four were quiet, and that’s when Noctis realized Ignis wasn’t setting up their camp stove and asking input on dinner, and likely would never do so again. His breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t even considered that Ignis’ blindness would rob him of his favourite hobby. All Noctis knew how to make was an omelette. Ignis had taught him how to make them only a few weeks ago at camp one morning.

“I guess it’s a cold dinner tonight guys,” said Prompto as he pulled a few cans of beans out of a bag.

It was better than nothing Noctis supposed.

The atmosphere around the campfire was tense. Every crackle of the wood made Ignis twitch. Prompto tried some small talk, but no one else joined in so eventually he let himself trail off into silence. Noctis was the first to rise and crawl into the tent, his can of beans hardly touched. He curled into his sleeping bag and pulled it over his head. After a few minutes he could hear the others strike up a low conversation.

Noctis curled into himself further. It was almost painful with his knees flush against his chin and his nails digging into his shoulders. Another thing that was his fault. He added it to his list of failures and silently reviewed it in his mind over and over before falling into an uneasy slumber.

A hand pressing down squarely in the middle of his stomach woke Noctis the next morning. Groaning he swatted at the arm, expecting it to be Prompto flailing in his sleep.

“Apologies,” a familiar accent murmured.

“Ignis? You’re awake already?”

“Apparently. Is it still dark out?”

Noctis blinked his eyes open and let the world invade his senses. There was a dim light filtering through the thick oiled canvas, but the sound of rain said it could be any time of the morning.

“A little, think the rainclouds might have more to do with that than the time of day.”

“Ah.”

They lapsed into a semi-awkward silence, interrupted only by the growling snores of Gladio and the quiet murmuring of Prompto. Noctis snuck a look at Ignis. He had yet to put on his dark sunglasses. For the first time Noctis saw the full extent of his injury: the angry red skin over his eye had scarred over the lid. Noctis was certain Ignis would never open that eye again. The other stared blankly just to the left of Noctis’ head. Under the collar of the simple t-shirt Ignis wore for sleeping peeked another section of scarred and twisted skin.

“Ah, Noct?” asked Ignis.

“Yeah?”

“If you wouldn’t mind, I require your assistance.”

“Sure, what do you need,” said Noctis, shuffling out of his sleeping bag.

“A quiet spot away from camp.”

Noctis blushed as he understood Ignis’ call to nature. He took Ignis by the elbow and led him out of their tent, softly warning him when he was about to step on Prompto’s foot.

Outside the tent it was miserable. The rain bucketed down in sheets so thick Noctis could barely make out the rails around the ledge of the Haven. He almost let out a complaint about having to trudge around in this weather before thinking about how it might make Ignis hate him even more. He stood by silently as Ignis went about his business, studiously staring in the opposite direction. He felt rather than heard Iginis return to his side. Noctis gently grasped Ignis’ elbow and began leading him back to the tent, but Ignis dug in his heels.

“If I may have a word?”

“Ignis it’s pouring out here, we can talk in the tent,” said Noctis.

“I’d prefer talking where we are unlikely to be interrupted.”

Noctis nodded in understanding, before remembering and hummed instead.

Ignis reached out and touched Noctis’ shoulder. Noctis braced himself for Ignis to begin politely tearing him apart but instead:

“Are you alright?” asked Ignis.

Noctis almost did a double take.

“What?”

“I asked if you were alright?”

Ignis gently brushed a hand against Noctis’ forehead, like he used to so many years ago whenever he suspected the Prince may have been keeping an illness from him.

“I should be asking you that,” said Noctis, shying away from Ignis’ hands.

“I am as well as can be expected, though I fear my eyesight is beyond hope I am determined not to let it deter me from my duties,” said Ignis confidently.

“Ignis…”

“I imagine managing my condition will take some adjusting, but I don’t see why I should have any trouble doing anything, though I must admit fighting will take some time.”

“As long as you can cook again,” said Noctis. As long as Ignis could do something he loved again.

“The beans weren’t pleasant were they? Hardly nutritious either.”

Noctis shook his head. Of course Ignis would complain about the fact that their meal wasn’t nutritious. He sighed, letting the lukewarm rain pour over the both of them.

“Ignis?”

“Yes?”

Noctis took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

Ignis’ face fell. He opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a loud shout.

“Hey!” Gladio had awoken, and apparently, it was his mission to make sure nothing else remained sleeping either.

“Gladio, good morning,” Ignis called back.

"Come on Ignis, let's get some breakfast together," said Gladio with a glare at Noctis.

"Actually, his Highness and I were having a discussion."

But Gladio threw and arm around Ignis' shoulder and gently but forcefully steered him away. He smiled at Prompto as he and Ignis went about building the fire back up with one of their stored spell flasks and Prompto gave a wobbly one in return. Then he spotted Noctis trailing behind them and bounded over

"Hey Noct!" Prompto and his crazy hairstyle seemed impervious to the rain.

"Morning."

"Thanks for helping Iggy out this morning, I shouldn't complain but it was nice to sleep in," said Prompto lightly.

Noctis frowned.

"Sorry."

"For what, Dude?" Prompto cocked his head in curiosity.

Noctis shook his head. It had been easier to apologize to Ignis. He didn't have to stare into Prompto's soul-searching eyes or try to put it all into words. Prompto didn't deserve to be wrapped up in his mess and on the run, he didn't deserve to be forced into the role of caretaker, hell he didn't deserve having to fight for his life every day. Every time he happily mentioned not having to kill anything while working an odd job pulled at Noctis' heart.

"Doesn't matter."

Prompto shrugged and wandered back to the tent and out of the rain, but not before glancing back.

The rest of the day was sluggish and slow. The generator key proved easy enough to find, but the generators themselves were a might trickier, and the rain created massive puddles that were hard for Ignis to navigate. Twice Ignis fell, and only by Prompto's quick reactions was he saved from a full dunking in a knee-deep puddle. Noctis was wary of the sketchy platform all the control equipment rested on, but another glare from Gladio had him scrambling up the sloped metal and pressing what he hoped was the correct buttons.

The machinery stuttered, black smoke pouring from exhaust ports and for a heart-stopping second Noctis was afraid it was just too wrecked to be operational. Then, with a squeal loud enough to wake the Six, the bit that blocked their way shuddered and lifted from the ground. Noctis immediately shut down the machine before it could block their way again.

"Woohoo! We're back in business baby!" shouted Prompto with a light punch to Ignis' shoulder.

"Shall we then?" asked Ignis, smiling.

Noctis let Gladio lead the way down the steep slope, staying to the back behind Ignis and Prompto. The rain settled into a sort of mist, eerie in the faint glow from hardly-operational lights and the grey fog it created. It was still far too wet for Noctis' comfort. It was a lot colder here than in Duscae and the damp chill easily crept all the way into his bones. They would be lucky if any of them came out of this without a cold.

As luck would have it what awaited for them at the bottom of the slope was yet another pool of water. Noctis felt uneasy with being in the centre of the deep pit and the only exit being the steep slope behind them.

"Can you see the Royal Tomb?" asked Ignis.

"Not yet, we'll take a look around," replied Noctis.

"What you don't have a magical connection to your ancestors?" Gladio snapped.

"Gladiolus, that is enough!" Barked Ignis, much to the surprise of everyone else.

"Iggy?" asked Gladio.

"Let's just keep looking for the Tomb," said Noctis quietly.

He pushed past the two of them and wandered out into the pond, looking left and right to try and see a familiar doorway. After all, Ignis shouldn't try defending him, everything up to this point had been Noctis' fault.

After a few minutes of peering into dark, moss-covered corners Noctis spotted the familiar white stone of a Royal Tomb. There was just one teeny tiny little problem.

"Ew, are those eggs?" asked Prompto, coming up beside Noctis.

Indeed, the Royal Tomb was covered in balloon-sized purple eggs. They hung in some sort of shiny gunk that let the things hang grotesquely from the wall.

"I'd say fried, not scrambled," said Gladio, making a joke for the first time since Altissia.

Noctis turned around to stare at him. It felt like emotional whiplash to have such a normal comment after days of harsh contempt. Gladio was smirking at Prompto, who seemed just as confused as Noctis, but that wasn't what caught his attention. No, Noctis was far more concerned about the giant green Marlboro that had popped up from out of fucking nowhere behind Gladio. The monster was focussed on Gladio, and breathing in deeply in preparation for its telltale attack: poison breath. Marlboros were rare enough, but everyone who went beyond Insomnia's walls had heard of at least one person who had a run in with a Marlboro. Usually the story ended in the poor person dying before they could get to a proper antidote.

All this flashed through Noctis' mind in less than a second. Despite the fact Gladio had been an asshole to him, Noctis just couldn't face the possibility of him getting hurt. He didn't need another thing to be guilty for. No, Gladio was their best chance at getting Ignis and Prompto out of this situation and back to safety. Hell, without Noctis the three of them would stop being hunted by the Empire and could finally start living normal lives.

So Noctis warped straight to Gladio, making sure to drop out a step before so his momentum would send the bigger man flying. And he did. Noctis could only hope Prompto somehow managed to get a snap of the comical shock on Gladio’s face he sailed through the air to land some feet away, face down in the pond.

A second later Noctis’ vision was clouded with green as the Marlboro released its poisonous breath. The stuff smelled _rank._ Like the Kinsglave’s dirty laundy mixed with some fish that had died in the sun three days ago. Noctis gasped against the sudden seizing of his lungs as he stumbled away from the giant monster, scrabbling through his pockets for an antidote. Not that it would solve the problem but it might help delay the inevitable.

His fingers slipped against the flask in his pocket. Already his motor functions were failing. Noctis blinked, belatedly realizing he was no longer upright. His head was above water though, so that was a bonus. Anxiety slammed into him. Gladio. Where was he? Had he gotten out of range in time?

Noctis blinked again, and this time there was a blurry blond head staring down at him. Warm hands curled over his shoulders and shook him lightly.

“…ct? Noct?” Prompto’s voice was fuzzy and distant, but Noctis tried to focus as much as he could.

“P’rmpto?” mumbled Noctis.

“Yeah Buddy it’s me.”

“Gladio?” asked Noctis, he needed to know.

“He’s fine, he’s kicking that thing’s ass. Now you gotta do something for me, ok?”

Noctis tried to answer. Of course he would do anything for Prompto. He would do anything for any of them. It was just hard to talk and breathe at the same time. Breathing was spectacularly difficult, he didn’t see why he should keep doing something so bothersome.

“You gotta drink this. I’ll help you, but you gotta drink it,” said Prompto as he lifted an antidote flask to Noctis’ lips with shaking fingers. “Ignis says you have a chance if we get even a normal antidote in you.”

Ignis. He needed to apologize to Ignis.

Noctis wiggled in Prompto’s grip and batted the hand with the antidote away.. It was hard for his weak hands to find any sort of purchase to lift himself off of but he tried, only to have Prompto shove him back down.

“Highness, I am right here,” Ignis’ voice was a stark contrast to Prompto’s anxiety filled words. “Please drink the antidote.”

Noctis looked around for Ignis, but all he could see were blurs of black and brown and the murky grey of the sky. He couldn’t feel the rain on his skin anymore, nor Prompto’s hand on his shoulders. Everything was a million miles away. Liquid dribbled into his mouth but he didn’t have the strength to swallow, weakly coughing it back up. Blackness encroached on the edges of his vision until it swallowed up every last touch of light, and Noctis knew no more.

To say Prompto was panicking would have been a mild understatement. Noctis had gone limp in his arms with his eyes rolled back into his head like a daemon-cursed horror film and he didn’t know what to do. The only thing he could do was hold onto Noctis’ limp body with shaking arms and try and do his calm breathing exercises.

Only meters away Gladio was fighting off the Marlboro with little success. Every time he thought he had the damn thing beaten it seemed to find some new cache of energy. With the situation becoming more dire every second the gears in Ignis’ mind were whirring at top speed.

“I have an idea!” he finally burst out.

Prompto looked up at him like he’d lost his mind along with his sight, worried now that Ignis would try something stupid and then they’d lose two friends in this miserable pit.

Instead Ignis fished something out of a pocket, wound up, and pitched the item straight into the roaring teeth-filled mouth of the Marlboro. Even if Ignis had his sight it would have been an amazing throw. Fire exploded in the Marlboro’s mouth. The monster shrieked in pain, its flailing tentacles whipping water over their heads. Gladio managed to get close enough to put it out of its misery, until they were all left gasping for breath and soaked to the bone.

There was a tense moment of silence as the water settled and the sounds of the other creatures in the mine slowly came back to their ears.

“I-I think he’s dead,”   said Prompto weakly. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes and his breathing sped up. “I think he’s dead Ignis. He’s dead. Dead. What are we gonna do?”

Ignis crouched down next to Prompto with dread pooling in his gut. He reached out blindly for Prompto and it took a few tries to find his shoulder. Ignis used Prompto’s body as a guide, fingertips ghosting down Prompto’s arm until he found the body of the king.

Noctis was too cold and too still. Nothing could have prepared Ignis for this moment. No amount of training for this very situation was ever enough to prepare Ignis for the moment he had to press his fingers into Noctis’ neck and not expect to feel the familiar strong heartbeat.

 _Thump… thump_.

Ignis nearly jumped in shock, but kept his fingers pressed into Noctis’ neck just in case his mind had been playing tricks. Again there was a faint flutter against his fingers. So slow and weak he almost missed it but it was there. He brought his hand up in front of Noctis’ face and could feel him breathing shallowly.

“Is he...?” asked Gladio quietly.

“Noctis is still alive, but we must act quickly. Prompto, you are the fastest of us; the outpost likely has a supply of Marlboro antidote and if you can run ahead and acquire it we can follow behind. Time is of the essence in this situation.”

There was a tense moment where Ignis literally had to pry Prompto’s fingers away from Noctis. It took another few seconds for Prompto to find his way to shaking feet before he took off like a shot. His squelching footsteps could be heard long after he had disappeared over the rise. For a moment Ignis worried about an anxiety-fueled Prompto going alone through the mine but quickly squashed the feeling down. Prompto had proved time and again that he could handle himself, and he could outrun any of the monsters they had seen in the mine thus far.

“I can take him Ignis. It’s my job,” said Gladio quietly.

Ignis had been struggling to get to his feet with Noctis’ dead weight in his arms. He handed over Noctis, but not without a snort of derision.

“That’s rich.”

“What are you talking about? I’m his shield, he took the hit for me, and I should be the one to get him to safety, end of story.”

“Funny how you berated Noctis for not embracing his duties while shirking yours for weeks, only now to decide you want to do your job.”

Gladio set off in a brisk march with Noctis carefully cradled in his arms. Ignis had to scramble to keep up. It was hard following only the sound of Gladio moving through the rain and not having a guiding hand showing him the way or telling him where a root or rock might be in his way. But he had just thrown a fire spell into the gaping maw of a Marlboro without his sight so it did stand to reason that Gladiolus may believe Ignis a touch more capable than he felt at the moment.

“Gladio slow down,” said Ignis after tripping for the umpteenth time. He had no idea where they were, only that they had been walking for nearly half an hour and still had yet to reach the mine elevator.

“I thought we were getting his Highness to safety,” growled Gladio.

“We are, but as you seem to have forgotten, I am blind!”

Silence echoed.

“Then maybe you should stay here until we get Noctis looked after.”

Noctis whined in Gladio’s arms. He looked down into bright eye with pupils blown wide with the poison in his system. Noctis looked past him towards Ignis.

“Wh’re?” mumbled Noctis.

“Is he awake?” asked Ignis.

“I’m not sure if you could really call it that, but his eyes are open.”

“Pr’mpto?” asked Noctis, wiggling as much as he could with numb limbs and Gladio’s strong arms wrapped around him.

“Prompto is getting help,” soothed Ignis. “And I am not waiting here for either you or him to return. I am not going to be left behind like a burdensome package.”

Gladiolus grumbled under his breath, but a streak of something bouncing and blond caught his eye. Prompto had returned.

“Ignis! Gladio! I got it!” he called as he ran.

“That was fast,” muttered Gladiolus.

Prompto was red in the face and wheezing when he finally slid to a stop in front of them. His hair had finally broken out of its style with the sweat and the rain and hung limply around his face. In his hand he had a small bottle filled with a faintly glowing green liquid.

“Lay Noctis down and we’ll give him the potion.”

Gladio complied, and Prompto quickly bit the lid off the bottle and held it to Noctis’ lips with shaking fingers. There was a tense moment where it looked like Noctis wasn’t going to swallow, but with some coughing and spluttering the antidote went down. Noctis’ eyes fluttered once before he stilled again.

“What if it was too late?” asked Prompto quietly.

“I suppose we find something else to do with our lives, but until Noctis is actually dead our first duty is to ensure his well-being. Which right now includes getting out of this miserable rain,” replied Ignis.

“And no doubt you have a feather bed planned for his Highness,” said Gladio. “Because the world will crumble if he recuperates in a tent rather than a royal hospital.”

And for the second time that day Ignis did something surprising. He walked over to Gladio, grasped him by the shoulder, and slapped him hard across the face with a resounding _crack_.

“That is enough!” cried Ignis. “I have had it with both you and Noctis. You are supposed to be his shield, his protector, and you’ve done a _fantastic_ job of fucking that up! My sight is gone but you blaming Noctis and yourself is not going to bring it back. It is what it is, and I shall have to learn to live with it, but it is not a reason to throw away years of friendship.”

“Ignis,” started Gladio.

“Come on. Let’s get going. We’ve no doubt missed the train but I know there must be beds somewhere in the outpost.”

Ignis shut down any other conversation with his icy tone. Prompto looked between Ignis and Gladio like a lost puppy. He hugged a slowly blinking Noctis to his chest like a living lifeline. One hand carded through damp black hair in a repetitive gesture that was more soothing for Prompto than the barely conscious king.

The trip out of the mine from there was mercifully short. Noctis was back with it enough to try walking, though ended up with an arm slung around Prompto’s shoulder and being half dragged through the mud. Whenever Gladio offered to carry him Noctis would hunch further into Prompto. By the time they reached the outpost the sun was setting, yet the train remained. Prompto led the way onboard, trying his best to avoid the suspicious glances of other passengers on the platform. Eventually they got Noctis propped up in one of the sleeping carts on as many pillows as they could steal. If anything the atmosphere was even more tense than it had been two days previous and it was showing. The silence between them was deafening. Gone were the days of silent companionship around a campfire, and whatever was left behind was never going to be enough to fill in the cracks.

It was Prompto’s bouncing knee that brought Noctis back to the land of the living. The cotton that had filled his brain since he pushed Gladio out of the way of the Marlboro was dissipating with every bump of his knee against Noctis’ mattress. The room slowly came into focus. First the grey shape of the mattress on the bunk above him, then the red of the walls, then the black-clad shapes of his friends, then their mud-spattered faces.

“Guys?” asked Noctis quietly. What had happened in the time he’d been out?

“You awake buddy?” asked Prompto.

“Yeah,” mumbled Noctis. “Gladio you okay?”

Gladio snapped to attention faster than a warp-strike. Shock was written all over his face.

“You’re asking me that?”

“’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“It’s all my fault,” said Noctis. Tired and dizzy, all the emotions he’d been squashing down came bubbling to the surface in an impossible tide. Tears rolled down his face.

“It’s my fault for everything. It is. ‘m so sorry. ’m sorry I couldn’t stop Leviathan from destroying Altissia, ‘m sorry it’s my fault you got hurt Ignis, ‘m sorry you got caught up in all this Prompto, ‘m sorry that you’re my shield and that your dad died,” said Noctis, the last part while staring at Gladio. “I’m sorry I’m not a good king. Was never a good prince either.”

The train let out an almighty screech as it finally pulled away from the station. The Royal Tomb remained unopened as they sped away into the growing darkness.

As the station slipped into more empty scenery Gladio sighed and leaned his elbows on his knees.

“You don’t have to be sorry for any of that. The last few weeks have been rough on all of us, and I took it out on you. I swore to protect you, and I failed my duty.”

Noctis was unsure what to think. Gladio had been cruel in the wake of Altissia, but he was pointing out Noctis’ obvious failures.

“It is what it is, right Iggy? I can’t change what happened, and neither can you. I don’t know all your creepy magic but I know that changing the past doesn’t factor in.”

Gladio rubbed a hand down his face and it came away covered in grime.

“But I-“

“Gladio apologized! I think you can let some of that guilt-complex go. Besides, while the heart-to-heart is nice, I’d much rather have a shower right now,” said Prompto with a smile.

“I agree with Prompto, we could all use some freshening up,” said Ignis.

The easy air had come back to the group, but it would never be the same as before. Even with Gladio’s forgiveness there was still the guilt pooling in Noctis’ heart. He had to make up for everything. Noctis would do anything to bring back the easy companionship with his friends and the peace he had known in his childhood. Anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for this unbeta'd, unedited, untouched pile of garbage but i have EMOTIONS over the second half of the game.


End file.
